I’ve always been running towards the field. It’s a beautiful field, just on the other side of an old, weathered wooden fence. It is filled with wildflowers and daisies, there’s a warm summer breeze whispering through the air, you can feel the sun freckling your skin and you can hear the bees slurping up the honey. I can see it in the distance as clear as day – but it always seems just out of reach.
Since returning from Burning Man, I’ve been doing a-lotta tinkering and thunkering. Something really amazing happened to me there – I changed. Maybe it was my time, my place; I was ready for the perfect dust storm, where all the elements came together in a crucible, sparking a catalyst, the culmination of decades of life experience, wisdom and work… whatever it was; I am different – I feel released from old conventions, I feel free. Instead of running towards the field, Burning Man plunked me right on it. I remember the moment. It was about 5:30 am and I had ridden my bike to the farthest point of no return on the playa. There was fence and beyond that fence was desert and horizon for as far as the eye could see. I stood at the flimsy, plastic barricade to no man’s land and felt this overwhelming urge to hop over it and go beyond the perceived limit; to go where my imagination had brought me for decades. It felt like I was stepping over a lifetime’s endeavor. I hesitated a few times, made sure no one was looking, that I wouldn’t get in trouble or be stepping into a mind field. It was scary, like standing on the edge of a cliff, swaying, fearful to take that next step. But this time I did. It took just a few seconds to crawl through a little crevice and stand on the other side. Stand in the field. There wasn’t a daisy in sight but I knew I had arrived. I stood there for a few minutes not sure of what to do next, half expecting the dry earth to crack and engulf me in its crater, but it didn’t, so I jumped up and landed on its solid ground, then took off running wildly into the great beyond.
It’s been a little over a month since coming home and a lot has changed. I have an enormous amount of free time on my hands which can be both a blessing and a curse…especially if you are a wonderer and wanderer like me. Thousands of possibilities are playing out in my head. What to do, what to create, how to be, who to be, what will become? Most days I’ve been blissfully happy to still be in the ember glow of the Man, but if I am also honest, there’s also been a few days of tantrums, big ass questioning and laying in fetal position on my kitchen floor looking at dust bunnies under the frig….yea I know…”dramatic”. So with that ridiculous image in mind I decided to go back to that big sandbox and figure out what was different and what I did differently so I can bring it full on into my life here and now.
Who are we at our best? Who are we at our worst?
At Burning Man, and most certainly many other times in my life, I felt my best. I was free, unencumbered, wildly open and trusting without any preconceived judgement from myself or others. I was in the moment and flowing, spinning, and spiraling in perpetual spontaneity. I was boundless in direction, limitless in possibilities. I felt so incredibly light and good I floated. Decades of weight removed as I let go of control, fear, restraint, expectation, calculation and obligation. There were no “to do’s, just be. I didn’t plan an agenda – it presented itself to me. What I needed showed up, what I dreamt of, was realized. I created space in my otherwise tightly contained, meticulously managed consciousness and gave my imagination the reins. It felt like I was in a constant loop of random circumstance, celestial serendipity at every turn, but in fact it was simply letting go of control that allowed my mind to make magic happen.
Being home, being back in a realm of reality is a test. How do I be Burning Man girl here? How do I keep that magic going strong? All I know is every time I try to contain it in a jar it diminishes, when I open the jar it becomes abundant. And so be it. I choose to leave it open. I relinquish the ordinary. I reject the need to control. I trust whole-heartedly and open myself to the freedom of flow. Time and space is a gift. Thoughts are magic. I put on my tutu and wings, I dare myself to invent fantastical possibilities and daydream my days away knowing that each and every positively infused intention is taking me a step closer to my ultimate destiny. I am in the field and it is the most wonder filled place I’ve ever been.